


Love and Matters of the Heart

by canadino



Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 04:15:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6500398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canadino/pseuds/canadino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sanji thinks about love a lot, and so does Zoro, in his own way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love and Matters of the Heart

They only talk about it once, and only because Nami stays up later than usual because it’s a clear night and she wants to make a star chart to connect to her continuing progress on her map of the Grand Line. Robin stays up as well because she’s got a few star charts of her own for Nami to consult. It puts Sanji in a good mood and, well, Zoro’s also up and why not. Luffy goes right to sleep, and for the better, because he’d have no interest in the topic and he’d derail it. Usopp would get embarrassed and contribute nothing and Chopper is just a child. Sanji throws open the door to the kitchen, a bottle of the finer wines they own that he keeps under two locks and two keys so no one filches it in one hand and three glasses in the other. He hands Zoro the glass he was carrying under his armpit almost like an afterthought and predictably pours out Zoro’s share last. **  
**

“This wine is almost as exquisite as your beauty,” Sanji says.

“Who are you talking to?” Nami laughs. She’s in a good mood, because she’s entertaining him. When they play off each other in these rare instances, the banter almost passes into flirtation - almost. Robin allows one of her own rare smiles. For a moment, it’s almost as if they aren’t sailing in treacherous waters, under the darkness of night where any nocturnal beast might creep up unannounced. 

“I’ll let you decide,” Sanji says.

“Good thing it’s almost,” Zoro says, helping himself to another glass. “Then I don’t need to feel bad at all that I’m drinking something second best to me.”

“I’m not talking about you.” Sanji bristles dramatically; the positive attention he’s getting from Nami and Robin is making him perform himself even more so. “And anyway, this wine isn’t meant to be guzzled, you uncultured swine. It’s meant to be sipped and tasted and yearned for, like the caress of one’s true love.”

Robin drinks quietly, but Nami leans back, just after making sure no stray droplets of wine would fall within the vicinity of her precious work, and says, “You know, I always wondered since you’re so unrelenting about it sometimes - well, all the time if I’m going to be honest - but what is it about you and ‘love’, Sanji? I’m asking seriously, and I’ll throttle you if you give me some flowery answer like it’s what you live for.”

Sanji crams the cork back into the bottle because Zoro is taking his third glass and then moves the bottle right out of Zoro’s range. “If you’re the one asking, I’ll spill any secret,” Sanji promises, although the goofy grin on his face fades a little when she cracks her knuckles. “Back on Baratie...it was a big date destination. There’s something romantic about sharing a meal with someone out of sight of prying eyes on the sea, you know? I saw a lot of beautiful people come in and out and it was different each time. And when you’re surrounded by a bunch of rough and ready ex-pirates, that kind of thing gets put on a pedestal. The fleetingness of it all did it too; no woman came with the expectation of staying for a long period of time. So you learn to seize your moments when they come.”

Robin places her glass on a hand coming out from the deck so she can fold her own hands over her knees. “So Sanji is a sentimental type.”

“Oh, Robin, can’t you tell? He waxes bad poetry at us all the time.”

“What about you?” Sanji asks, pointedly ignoring her unkind commentary. “There’s not that much time to think about it here, but what’s your motto on love and matters of the heart?”

Nami makes a face. “Matters of the heart,” she repeats, the words dropping from her tongue. “I never really thought that much of it. I always used that kind of thing as a means to an end but I really only think it’s worth the time and energy if the payoff is big. And I’m not talking about money, really,” she adds when she notices the look Zoro is giving her. “But the world is just in flux so much I can’t imagine myself stopping for it unless I’m guaranteed at least a considerable amount of stability.”  

“I’m past the age where it’s beautiful like that,” Robin says when Sanji turns to her, hope on his face that she’ll drop some aged knowledge to counter Nami’s practicality. “Perhaps I’ve wasted my youth, but I’ve focused on other things for so long I don’t think I can give it the attention it deserves.”

They drink in a long, deep silence until Nami says, “What about you, Zoro?” Sanji has no interest in hearing Zoro’s opinion on the matter, because his mouth is already halfway open as he’s looking at Nami and Robin with a new change of subject half-baked on its way out. This interruption makes him glare at Zoro. Zoro is already half dozing, the wine warming his stomach nicely and he has no intention of picking a fight with Sanji and possibly waking Luffy. 

“I have nothing to say about it.” 

Sanji takes this as a springboard and immediately changes the direction of the conversation to some rare spice native to the island that their sailing toward and Zoro rests up against the mast. As the next best swordsman of the world, he’s naturally alert so he won’t be able to fall asleep until their voices yawn and they retire to their beds. He doesn’t listen attentively so there’s just a pleasant murmur of their voices, mixing with the slow slosh of the water around them that rocks the boat up and down. He can hear Nami’s voice then, suddenly clear because he hears his name: “Well, it’s about time to sleep for the night. Zoro’s got night watch, but shall we wake him before we go below deck? We can’t predict the types of weather we’ll pass through in the night and I wouldn’t want him to catch cold like that.”

“Don’t bother,” Sanji says, and Zoro’s about to open his mouth to call him cold and unfeeling and duller than the knives that Usopp has promised to go over with the whetstone in the morning, but Sanji continues in a subdued way he would never use if Zoro’s eyes were open. “He spent a while freeing the anchor from those rocks they got stuck in while we were fishing this afternoon, so it seems like a waste to wake him. I’ll bring him a blanket.”

“That’s very considerate of you, Sanji,” Robin says, and for once, Sanji doesn’t gloat about it. Instead, there’s the sound of Nami rolling up her star charts and maps and Sanji collecting the glasses. Zoro stays very still as they walk past him and he waits and waits for Sanji to come back and cover him with a blanket. It isn’t cold, so there’s no rush, but he waits for what feels like a very long time. 

Then he has his eyes open and he’s sitting on the side of the ship right next to a girl he knows to be Kuina. This is a dream. He recognizes the familiar lilt of the boat on the Grand Line’s waters and the smell of seawater. Kuina is thirteen and he is nineteen. He has his three swords around his side and she isn’t holding anything, no wooden practice sword and no blade. 

“It’s not that unusual,” Zoro says to her. “For someone to like a challenge.” Since he is a child, he relishes in difficulty in getting what he wants. The harder it is, the more impossible it may actually be, the more Zoro wants it, although it isn’t interesting unless he lands in his hands at the very end. He starts by shouting for his father, the vivid memory of his father’s thick back facing him. When his father doesn’t turn around, he takes up his swords and collects dojo placards because infamy is just as good an excuse to grab someone’s attention. Kuina becomes the peak of the mountain and he forgets his father when her shadow blocks his light. But when she falls too, toppling into the sea, the top isn’t even good enough. The thing is, Mihawk is a physical being for him to beat, but his endgame isn’t solid like the One Piece that will undoubtedly become Luffy’s or Nami’s map of the physical world or Sanji harvesting All Blue or even Robin shining light into the unexplored crevices of the planet’s rich history. In this way, he feels a kinship with Chopper; the best is always changing. It’s a point in time, not the be-all-end-all.   
  


“I want it, of course,” he adds. She doesn’t acknowledge this and she keeps looking out at the expanse of ocean. “But the possibility of not getting it makes it even more precious.” 

Kuina turns to him and even though it’s his dream, and he knows it and knows it’s part of his consciousness, so a part of his brain must have programmed her to look at him, but it still shocks him and he jolts awake. He feels stifled and frantic for a moment, before realizing it’s because the thick blanket he keeps among his belongings near his bed is wrapped snugly around his shoulders. It isn’t the throw from the ratty couch in the kitchen or even the sheets he keeps in his hammock, so it has to be Sanji who rummaged through his things for this. Nami squeals whenever she comes close to the boys’ room, complaining it smells rank and Robin will not enter the room if the boys are already asleep. 

He really needs to make his way up to the crow’s nest to really do a proper lookout, but the blanket is drawn just right around him, like a bed of vegetables arranged neatly on a plate or the exact separation of egg whites and yolks. He can take his time. 

[=]

Usually Sanji takes care of routine restocking trips at ports alone because he only trusts himself to buy the right ingredients but when they’re visiting a city after a few days of getting lost and two weeks of sailing without setting foot on land, he needs an extra hand. The Devil Fruit users could handle the weight with no problem but with their bounties, they do not need an opportunity to stand out (Luffy in particular gives Sanji anxiety, the thought of his captain blowing their cover when he’s about to seal a steal of a price on some good tomatoes). Nami’s speciality is her brain, not her brawn (and like hell Sanji would ask her to do any heavy lifting) and the weight distribution between Usopp and him would still be a bit of a challenge. Zoro’s convenience is that by just putting up with occasional barbed comments and a general dismissive attitude, he is a bag man and considers it training too so everyone wins.  

“We’re done,” Sanji says, stuffing the large bag he has Zoro hold like a large child in his arms. “Let’s get this back to Merry and your servitude will be over for now.”

“I would like to be paid in three large bottles of sake,” Zoro declares. He gestures with his wrist when Sanji lifts up his own share of their new stock.

“I’m not giving you alcohol right now.”

“No, idiot.” His hand flaps against his bag. “I can carry some of that for you.” 

Sanji gawks at him. “I didn’t know I needed a strong man to help me carry all my things, like I haven’t been making stock runs since I was fourteen. Do you think being nice to me will make me throw in an extra bottle? I’ll give you a voucher for a snack of your choice, but don’t try and push the envelope here.”

“Never mind,” Zoro huffs, storming off. “Sprain your wrist or throw out your back then.”

“I’m serious! I’m not a muscle showoff like you, but I can handle this much on my own. Are you getting a stuffed head because I asked you to carry some stuff with you? I just know my limits, which is something maybe you’d like to learn, since you just go off above and beyond…” As they cross the bazaar to the harbor, the woman at the smoked meats counter screams as a group of men upend her table and knock her to the ground in the process.

“You think I short-changed you?” the man who was doing most of the destruction is saying. “That I didn’t pay a fair price? What happened to the customer is always right? I gave you what I thought these meager sheets of meat were worth. I shouldn’t have to pay a king’s ransom for what my crew can polish off as a midnight snack.”

The woman quickly gets back to her feet. “Sir, you bought out half of my wares today.” A few of the man’s companions are sneaking some of the remaining meats off their hooks in the back, and she notices. She doesn’t speak for a long moment, torn between saving the remainders and arguing the fair price. “Please; I’m not asking more than the worth of the time and effort it took to prepare them.” 

“And I’m saying that’s overcharging. You want to say you’re selling grade A quality pork? You should be grateful I’m giving you some coin for your slum livestock.” 

“Zoro,” Sanji says, and Zoro puts down the bag at his feet as if he actually gets a verbal request. He keeps his swords wrapped when he goes out because three-sword Roronoa Zoro is kind of an infamous name around these parts so he doesn’t want to give himself away just by virtue of having his signature brand out in the open. Zoro unravels the bindings as he walks up to the stall.

“Hey,” he says. “I’ve decided I want that pack instead, and I’ll pay more for it than this chump here.”

“Excuse me?” the Leader sputters. The woman opens her mouth but Zoro knocks the Leader to his feet and makes short work of the others. When Zoro straightens up and sheaths his swords, he finds Sanji carefully winding rope around the pirate crew. 

“They’ve got to be worth some bounty,” Sanji shrugs. “They can pay for their meat with their own hides.” He beams at the woman vendor as he works a strong knot. “I can tie a mean roast,” he says to Zoro. It reminds Zoro of the ukiyo-e that some of the older boys at the dojo had, the kinds they giggled over and hid whenever any teacher came nearby. Zoro hitches their own wares into his arms as Sanji tells the vendor how to turn the pirates in to the Marines and doesn’t pass the chance to slip in a flirtatious compliment as well. 

“Please take this as well,” she says, handing Sanji the pack of meat that had started the whole fight. “On the house. Or at least, their bounty probably covers this and more.”

“It would be rude to reject the gift from a beautiful lady,” says Sanji, kissing her hand for good measure. “Our captain will be grateful to you.” His easygoing, loose smile transitions into a smug smirk by the time they get back on Going Merry. Robin is the only one on the ship, keeping watch, and she waves at them as she looks up from her book. “Well, well,” Sanji says when they’re in the kitchen and he can gloat without Robin hearing him being less than charming. “Who would have thought the uninterested moss rock would not think himself above coming to the rescue of a fair maiden?”

“I never said that,” Zoro frowns, depositing everything on the table and taking out each article as Sanji reorganized whatever they had in the fridge to fit all the new things. “Men and women are equal to me.” 

“Alright, fine, I guess. But you can’t deny she was making eyes at you after you flexed and beat those goons out.”

“Did she? I didn’t notice.” 

“You are so dense,” Sanji laments. “A woman’s affections are truly wasted on you. I feel sorry for you. You don’t go looking for a woman’s beautiful soft touch after days and weeks on this boat with a crew that’s mostly made up of men.” 

Zoro places all the preserved fruits in their glass jars in a row on the table. “I don’t think you completely understand me,” he says. Sanji looks at him with exasperation as he lights a cigarette. “I said, men and women are equal to me.” 

Sanji doesn’t get it, and then he does. He laughs nervously, making his voice soar to the octaves Chopper has when he’s chattering happily whenever Nami gives him a piece of candy. “Why are you telling me this?” His fingers are shaking. 

Zoro shrugs. “It’s my opinion on love and matters of the heart.”

“I have a lot of stocking to do,” Sanji said. “Get out of the kitchen. You’re distracting me.” He kicks at Zoro’s shins, and when that doesn’t get Zoro out fast enough, he braces himself and puts his hands on Zoro’s back and shoves him out the door. He stumbles out onto the deck and the kitchen door slams shut behind him. “This place is off limits,” Sanji’s voice comes muffled from the other side. 

“What did you do, Mister Swordsman?” Robin asks. 

“I out-loved the Casanova,” Zoro says. “And I forgot to get my alcohol before it.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like this is too navel gaze-y. People were confused about the abs fic which I thought was pretty straightforward so....anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
